Old Harry, Tom Archer's prize boar (known to readers of the Echo as the Beast of Borsetshire), has escaped and is devastating Ambridge, offering an unrivalled opportunity to say, "Is he wild?"

"Well, he's a bit annoyed."

How like the home life of Matt Crawford, who has been cornered by the Serious Fraud Office and, after giving a gifted impression of a greased pig, has finally squealed. The damage both have inflicted on the village makes you suck your teeth. There are trotter marks and smashed daffodils everywhere.

The achingly honest Archers are all caught up in Matt's spot of bother, notably Tom, whose sausage empire is tottering. He has lost Brenda, his girlfriend, Harry, his boar, and, crucially, Matt, his financial backer. While Brenda and Tom have split up under the strain, Lilian is standing by her man like Tammy Wynette or, for those of a more literary bent, Mrs Micawber. It was touching to picture the old girl smoking furiously outside the nick, while Matt was inside confessing his sins to a Fraud Squad investigator who sounded ("That was dishonest, wasn't it, Mr Crawford?") as if she was rustling crisp, white wings. You never liked the raffish pair better.

Chalkie, Matt's partner in crime, is disgruntled to hear that he has spilled the beans to save his bacon, and vanishes with a smell of sulphur and an unmuffled curse: "Watch your back, mate!" Meanwhile, back at the Bull, the boozers are turning ugly. "They'll be up here with pitchforks and flaming torches next," says Matt.

His future is, you feel, tied up with Old Harry's. Either they are both dead meat or will return, chastened and sheepish, to those who love them.

As a spicy postscript, meet Opal ("tattooing while you wait"), Borchester's answer to Lydia the tattooed lady. "She has muscles men adore so, and a torso even more so." Or, as Kenton puts it, "Check those pecs!"